If you’ve been following along in Parenting Beyond Performance and Third time lucky, you’ll know that this journey with my son has been anything but ordinary. From emotional football trials to quiet parental battles and the high-stakes third trial, we’ve been riding a roller-coaster of growth, grit, and grace.
But nothing could have prepared me for the unexpectedly profound—and slightly hilarious—life lessons waiting for us at his first secondary school sports day.
The Unexpected Surprise: Dad’s in the Crowd!
I decided to surprise him. He had no idea I’d turn up. The look on his face when he spotted me, his little sister, baby brother, and mum in the crowd? Priceless. Pure, unadulterated joy!
He proudly told me beforehand he’d been selected to represent his house in the discus throw and the 400m race. After missing his recent rugby tournament win (parent guilt alert!), I knew I couldn’t miss this one.
Discus Drama: Confidence Without Practice is Just…Confidence
Let’s start with the discus. According to him, he was “the best in his PE class.” Naturally, I was intrigued. There was just one small problem: I had never—not once—seen him touch a discus at home. Not in the garden, no shadow movements in the living room not even a subtle air-throw while watching YouTube.
So there he stood in the throwing circle, looking every bit the part—serious face, intense breathing, dramatic pre-throw routine (slightly comical to my untrained eye)! My parental radar tingled.
And then he threw.
Let’s just say… it landed. Eventually.
He came 8th out of 9. And as the results rolled in, I saw it—the look. That slow, dawning realisation that “best in PE” doesn’t mean much if there’s no real-world training to back it up.
Meanwhile, the winner? One of his best mates, drafted in last-minute! While I was happy for his friend, I knew my son craved that moment of recognition. It was a stark, visual lesson: Confidence without foundation is just hot air. Preparation matters. You can’t will a discus further; you have to train your body to throw it.
The 400m: When Grit Meets Misdirection (Literally)
Now here’s where things get a bit embarrassing—for me. We’d been training for days. We did “400m” runs at a local park. I had the stopwatch. I gave pep talks and running techniques. He gave 110%.
But we later realised my chosen course was not 400m. Probably closer to 350m. Let’s call it… a motivational miscalculation.
Add to that the fact that he’d lost both big toenails, which made wearing running shoes feel like a medieval torture session. He’d been walking the school field in socks all day, hoping for divine healing. But race rules are race rules—shoes were mandatory.
Still, there he was, crouched and focused at the start line. He’s had some niggling challenges at school lately, feeling sometimes unfairly targeted by his teachers. I had explained to him that success, whether in sports or academics, can be a powerful way to build confidence and shift perceptions.
He gave it his all. By the final bend, I saw the pain on his face. But he didn’t quit. He pushed through and finished third. Exhausted. Frustrated. Disappointed.
But to me?
That was gold. Because while the discus showed us where we didn’t prepare, the 400m revealed where we almost got it right—and how grit covers the gap when your prep falls just short. Essentially, preparation is crucial, but calibration is key. Understanding the true challenge is part of getting ready
From Podium to Perspective: The Real Victories
On the way home, I expected sulking. Instead, he turned to me and said:
“We need to prepare better Dad”.
That right there is why I call him KingKong. Not because he wins every time, but because when he loses, he gets better—not bitter. I quietly asked him to find out about the winner later – my strong suspicion being that child had likely trained specifically for the exact 400m Distance, reinforcing the importance of preparation.
These weren’t just sports events. They were live-action metaphors.
- The discus taught him that showmanship without training leads to short flights.
- The 400m taught him that real preparation needs accurate measurements—and a lot of heart.
- And both taught me, again, how critical resilience, determination, and bouncing back are.
Parenting from the Sidelines: Progress Over Perfection
As I stood watching from the edge of the track—proud, amused, slightly guilty—I realised again how sports mirror life. The beautiful chaos of parenting often plays out in sprints and throws. Wins and losses. Gasps and giggles.
Sure, he didn’t win either event. But he walked away with something better: awareness. The kind that sparks change. The kind that says, “I didn’t get the result I wanted, but I know exactly what to do about it.”
That’s gold. That’s the win.
Looking Forward: The Road to Redemption (and Real 400m Runs)
Next year? Oh, we’re coming correct.
- We’ll train with a real tape measure.
- We’ll invest in actual discus equipment.
- And most importantly, we’ll continue nurturing that mental grit that says: “I’ll show up, try again, and do it better next time.”
Because this isn’t just about school sports. This is about raising a young man who doesn’t shrink from failure, but studies it—and uses it.
Final Thoughts: Building Champions—On and Off the Track
If you’re a fellow parent navigating the ups and downs of raising a child with big dreams, remember: not every win comes with a medal. Some victories are quiet. Some look like coming third when you expected first. Some come from running in pain and still finishing strong.
But all of them matter.
We’re not raising perfect kids. We’re raising resilient ones.
And as for KingKong? He’s already lacing up—wiser, stronger, and ready for the next race.
